Kissing and Killing
by rainydaylovers
Summary: what happens when light and L get caught in a power outage together. death note L x Light oneshot. also a view at the end on their hatelove relationship and how hard it is to love, especially in their place. please review! xxchuuxx
1. Chapter 1 blackout

"Let's play truth or dare."

"Where are going with this, Ryu-kun?"

"Yagami-kun, you first."

"Truth," Light grumbled, still suspicious.

"What would you do….if I was Kira?"

Light froze.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're L! You're trying to hunt Kira down!"

"But what if it was all to cover up the fact that it was me?"

"I….you wouldn't do that, L."

"And what if I did?"

"You wouldn't tell me!"

"And what if I did?"

Light was cornered. He started breathing hard, his heartbeat quickening as he looked for a way out.

"What if I was responsible for so many deaths?"

"I would….uh…."

"Just tell me the truth. This is truth or dare, you know."

"That's….that question is a little too serious for a game."

"Okay. Then I'll give you a dare."

"A-alright," Light said half-heartedly.

"I dare you to kill me with nothing more than a piece of paper."

Light stared hollowly at L, whose head was cocked to the side. Light searched for any hint of humor in his friend's eyes, but sensed this was far from being a joke. The dark circles under his eyes made it just that much harder to look away, that much harder to lie. Light concentrated on acting innocent, but the sheer interest, the seriousness, the honesty in L's eyes made it next to impossible.

"I can't do that. You know that, L."

"You want to answer that truth then?"

"If you were Kira…." Light looked at the ceiling, wishing he could avoid this but knowing it was impossible. "If you were Kira, I would kill you."

"Why?"

"Because you took so many lives, played so many mind games, hurt so many people. At first you would've been doing something good, something justiced, something that I meant to be right. But as you got closer and closer to finding me, I started killing people who didn't deserve to die, like the police force and—" Light froze. L's eyebrows were knitted together in confusion as he debated how to take this. Light was only just realizing what he was saying, how a simple game of truth or dare was enough to uncover his identity.

"Light Yagami-kun is Kira," L mumbled quietly, holding Light's wrist with one hand and tracing the lines of his palm with the other hand's fingertips. "My first friend is my worst enemy."

"And my first enemy is my best friend."

"Maybe this was destiny," L suggested.

"Maybe I was meant to die."

"Maybe you were meant to kill."

"Maybe I was meant to die for killing."

Light looked at the floor, wishing this day had never happened.

"Light-kun, you're the first person I ever really trusted."

"You're the last."

"Yes, Light. Yes, I will be the last one you ever trust."

"Does this mean you're going to have me killed?"

"Of course not. I will not kill my only friend."

Light looked away quickly, not wanting L to see how often he had considered killing his friends, his lovers, even his own family.

"I found you, Kira."

"L."

"And now I really know you, Light-kun."

"I hate everything about you."

"I love everything about you."

"I love your determination."

"I hate your bloodthirst."

"I hate that seriousness." Which was a lie.

"I love your intelligence." Light stopped. For a while there, he had thought L imagined him as being childish, simple, boring. This changed a lot.

"I love how childish you are," Light replied.

"I love that about you."

They sat side-by-side as the room drained of light with a power outage, and as the two boys sat in the dark there was no sound but the soft clap of their hands meeting, fingertips entwining, breath hushed, hearts thumping, as they remained in silence and in darkness for hell knows how long. But somehow it was perfect. Simple. Loving and hating, living and dying, breathing and choking, kissing and killing. The swish of a pen could be the slashing of a knife. The flipping of a page could be a scream ripping the air. People had to die now and then. Kira, of all people, should know that. And if one or both of them collapsed in that darkness, it would be understood. Lovers, especially, have to die.

Love is the slowest form of suicide.

Put a gun in his hands and you can never tell what he'll do with it. He might shoot himself, he might shoot his lover. He might point at random and fire off a round. He might look down at the barrel and remember what it's like to taste murder. Blood. Empathy. Hate, fury, passion. A flurry of limbs and lips in the dark, whether that is kissing or killing. To touch is to destroy.

Love is the most painful way to go.

_But does that stop us? No._

Maybe you know him, maybe you don't. Maybe you'll love him, maybe you won't. But love or lust, pull or thrust, the tug of his eyes will probably draw you in. If you can escape, maybe you'll live, and maybe not. It's hard to say. It's hard not to break down and give in. It's hard to miss him, and it's hard not to. By the time you stop to think about it, he might be holding a gun to your head or pressing the handle into your palm. Whoever fires the first shot is in control. But no matter who pulls the trigger first, everyone has to go.

Love means when you kill him, you're dragging yourself down with him.

Love means a definite ticket to hell.

You better enjoy every second of being alive, because being dead will be torture and punishment for sinning and singing, kissing and killing, teaching and touching.

Light put his head on L's shoulder and suddenly, their lips met. Hell knows what started it, but loving and hating, there was no way they could love without pain or feel pain without love. A vicious circle, yes, but worth every drop of sweat, blood and tears. The two boys in the black room were isolated and so perfectly, perfectly alone.

_xxchuuxx_


	2. Chapter 2 riddles

**The return of my short, very, very, **_**very**_** slightly popular oneshot Kissing and Killing. Part Two. It may continue, maybe not, depending on reviews and all. Please R&R. Oh yeah, and I lied when I said it was a oneshot. Muahaha!**

**On to the fanfic!**

Mello was sucking on a piece of chocolate, as usual; Matt was flicking his goggles and yawning, as usual; Mikami was boredly watching lifespans drift over the heads of passersby through his window, as usual; Near was playing with ridiculously childish robotic toys that somewhat resembled a mix of Transformers and Lego Mindstorm gone awry, as usual; Light was chewing on his pen cap and staring down at a blank page from the Death Note, as usual; and Ryuzaki was munching on panda animal crackers smothered in strawberry frosting and reading the paper, as usual, and all of them were thinking of someone else.

Mello leaned on Matt's shoulder and sighed, his breath smelling heavily of milk chocolate squares, and Matt, annoyed, wriggled out of reach.

"It's a wonder you're not fat," he scoffed, glaring thoughtfully at the thick chocolate bar in his friend's hand.

"It's all I eat," Mello shrugged.

"Okay, so it's a wonder you're not a malnourished little rat." He went back to his book.

"I am a malnourished little rat," Mello smiled, sprawling out into Matt's lap. Matt shoved the blonde onto the raggedly carpeted wood floor. Matt, only about a month younger than Mello, was strong as hell and didn't show any signs of mercy. He took a long drag on his cigarette and flipped a page in his novel. Mello reached up and snatched the book away, pulled the cigarette from Matt's mouth and crumbled it in his fist. Matt looked up, mildly amused.

"All you care about is your damn cigarettes and your stupid books," Mello said, swearing violently as he pressed his lips to Matt's. Matt shrugged and gave a little smile, flicking his lighter on another cigarette and taking the book back from his partner. "All you care about is chocolate," he pointed out, somewhat cheerfully. Matt was pretty easy-going. Mello rolled his eyes and kissed Matt again, lighter this time. Matt traced his fingers lightly over Mello's high cheekbones, a light smile playing across his lips.

"You are pretty," he said carefully, cocking his head to one side.

"I'm _not_ pretty," Mello snarled, ripping the new cigarette from Matt's mouth again and stomping it into the floor, "I'm not. If you're going to bother to compliment me or anything, don't call me _pretty._"

Matt laughed.

"You are pretty. Like a little girl." He winked fiercely and tucked a strand of hair behind Mello's ear. The blonde glared sharply, gritted his teeth, and pounced. Matt laughed as Mello tore at his clothes, eventually ripping his striped shirt and scratching his goggles.

"Aw, Mel, that was a new pair," he complained as he inspected the damage. Rubbing at the scratch with the heel of his hand, he sighed. Mello skulked off. It wasn't every day he kissed Matt, and it felt pretty damn good. He ought to do it more often. But he'd never say that. Matt was such a cocky little bastard, smoking and reading his books and laughing like he was getting tackled by a six-year-old. Mello grumbled something under his breath and flicked the muzzle of his gun, tried the slide, and checked for a click. Yup, it was loaded. He was pretty sure he would need it.

-----

L wrapped his arms around Light's neck, breathing hotly in his lover's ear. Light shrugged him off, shoving the Death Note's drawer shut and screwing the pen back together before sticking it in the pencil cup. L licked the side of Light's cheek. Light groaned and wiped his face, standing up from the desk. L pushed him to the bed, his lips tasting sweet and soft, like the strawberry frosting he'd been licking from his fingers moments ago. Light slipped out of his shirt, tugging on Ryuzaki's sleeve. Ryuzaki smiled impishly and bit Light's shoulder. The moan he received in trade was all it took to get him out of shirt, jeans, shoes and socks. He sucked on Light's earlobe as his lover pressed feverishly against him.

L undid the buckle on Light's pants and made short work of the zippers and buttons and belt straps. Soon it was just the two of them, unnaturally void of clothes, grappling and moaning and hissing on the bed. L was in control, because he liked it that way, and Light was trembling pleasurefully beneath him. No one argued about sex when it came to this. Really, whoever was quicker and better was the seme, no questions asked. Sometimes Light led, actually. L was surprised at how nimble he was. There was no doubt in his mind that the sweet taste on his tongue had nothing to do with the strawberry frosting and animal crackers.

Light twisted around to touch his lips to Ryuzaki's, tasting love and blood and excitement. He moved carefully until he was on top of L, exploring the explosions of taste and lust and passion. He ran his tongue along the lines of slim muscle on L's neck, biting and sucking and kissing until he'd decided he wanted it enough. He slipped down farther and farther, slower and slower, until he'd gotten L anxious enough. Light's mouth closed around L's cock, his head pounding, his mind numb. But he'd wanted this forever. He'd waited long enough; they hadn't been together for weeks. He felt L shiver and knew he was doing well. He jutted his chin up quickly as he came face-to-face with a sweating, panting L again. Light's masterfully carved chest was hammering with an irrationally quick heartbeat. He was ready.

Grinding his hips against the bulge in L's groin, he smirked as his lips met with Ryuzaki's again. L moved carefully until they were both on their side, kissing and touching and unable to even guess what to expect next. They were kissing and killing, and they knew it. Light had been careful about this. He frowned as he thought about it.

Suddenly, Light bolted up from the bed, covers flying, pillows knocked on the floor as he scrambled towards his desk. Fumbling with trembling hands, he opened the drawer's secret compartment and flipping to the newest page in the Death Note. He grabbed a pencil and furiously erased every word he saw on the page. Frantic, he continued to rub at the empty white space. L got up, slipped on his boxers, and came up behind Light to see what was wrong.

The light breath on his shoulder startled Light out of his worried work, and he spun around quickly, breathing hard. Not anticipating L being so close, his shoulder had hit his lover in the jaw and Ryuzaki was on the floor, swearing about the blood dripping down his split lip. Light's eyes widened as he saw the blood and the crumpled figure on the floor. He helped L up; when he firmly decided that Ryuzaki was fine, Light went back to the death note and pushed harder and harder with the eraser again, as if scrubbing an invisible stain. He flipped the page and let out a scream when he saw the name he'd just erased appear again and again, filling every page, every line, every spot. He ripped and tore and cried as he lashed out at the book with his eraser and his pen and his hands. Shredding every last page, he sunk to the floor, surrounded in a snowfall of paper bits, his face in his hands.

He began to sob.

The Death Note was lying by his feet, unharmed, somehow reconstructed, and everywhere, there was that name.

He shrieked as L collapsed into his arms and his lover died in his lap.


	3. Chapter 3 static shocks

**Fucking full lemon, yeah! No pun intended. I have mouths in my hands, watch me. Okay ignore that...but anyway, ye've been warned. graphic, graphic, graphic. if you dont wanna read it, dont, please. thats why they made the little back button at the top of your browser. so if you're not a yaoi fan, dont read it! please dont flame because its lemony. if you dont want it to be lemonny, dont read it. honestly. **

**but if its getting under your skin because you want to know what happens next since I (sniff) killed off L, go ahead.**

As soon as Light opened the door, Mikami pounced on him.

The black-haired boy was overly emotional, crying and whining and moaning as he hugged Light to his chest. Light had been pale and cold and empty ever since L's death. He hadn't imagined it could possibly be this painful to lose his lover. Mikami sniffled into Light's shirt and looked up at him with big black eyes, sympathizing about how horrible it must have been to lose his best friend and his closest lover. Light stared hollowly down at Mikami, who was on the floor, wrapped tightly around his legs, suspiciously interested in Light's lower body. Light tugged his feet out of Mikami's scrabbling grip, obviously repulsed by Mikami's childish behavior. He was such a faker, it wasn't even beginning to be funny.

Mikami growled and stood up, his eyes suddenly serious, his face dark.

"What the hell was that about?" Light asked coldly, unblinking.

"I don't fucking know, Raito," Mikami sighed, staring intensely into Light's face.

"You think acting all cutesy and pretending to care that he's dead?"

Mikami's eyes narrowed a tiny bit, but it was evident he wasn't happy.

"You fucking don't even care about him. I loved him. You don't have any right to talk to me about it."

Mikami's jaw tightened.

"You don't fucking care about him!" Light yelled. He was completely unnerved by the silent response.

"You're right," Mikami said calmly as he leaned in and pressed his lips to Light's, "I don't."

Light melted.

Mikami tasted like Hershey's kisses and strawberry frosting and animal crackers and sweet cream cake filling. He tasted like L had, his lips felt like L's had, his voice even sounded like L's. He was lost in the feeling because he missed L so much. Ryuzaki had meant something to him. As Mikami and Light locked arms around each other and tumbled down the stairs, Light decided he needed someone. Not a rebound, exactly, not a replacement, but someone to temporarily fill the emptiness L had left him with. The problem was, it had been Light who'd killed him. That name. He'd had that dream so many times since it had happened, and no matter what, it felt like the first time that L died every night. Four months had passed, and every night he saw the same thing, felt the same arms, tasted the same kiss. So Mikami suddenly was everything he missed so dearly in L.

No questions crossed his mind as he undid his zipper and slipped out of his red cardigan. It was cardigan weather—cool, crisp, a thin layer of frost on everything inside and out. He was chilled to the bone, but that wasn't it. It wasn't the freezing air that gave him goosebumps as he lay panting next to Mikami on the spare mattress in the basement, licking the last traces of his favorite strawberry frosting off Mikami's chin, staring into those bold dark eyes and seeing someone he loved. Mikami never smiled, never laughed, never blinked. It was always the same, day in and day out, and as the weeks passed with them as ridiculously wrong lovers, he never changed. For some reason Light couldn't place, he liked that. It meant he would never worry about being hurt or cheated on or left behind. With Ryuzaki, he had that constant worry digging at him. But no one could replace L, no way in hell could that happen. But for now, Mikami made a good substitute.

-----

Mello yawned and reached for the ringing phone, checking the blinking digital clock. Four fucking AM. Typical.

"Hey," came a low, sexy whisper. It was Matt. Of course it was Matt.

"Are you smoking?" Mello pouted sarcastically. Matt laughed.

"Ever known me not to be?"

"Your lungs are gonna turn black and shrivel up and fall out," he snorted.

"You're gonna get fat and turn into a chocolate bar."

"I can't turn into a chocolate bar. You could get smoker's lung, though."

"You don't know that you won't turn into a chocolate bar. Don't get too cocky, you never know. I might have to take you out of gold wrapping paper next time I want to screw you."

Mello grumbled.

"Anyway, good morning to you too, Sleeping Beauty," Matt sneered.

"You get up way too fucking early, bitch."

"I thought maybe you'd like to see me?"

"There's nothing to do, asshole," Mello replied, shifting the phone to the other ear as he tugged at his muscle shirt. Obviously unamused, he waited for an answer.

"So, you want to do something?"

"Just a reminder for if you want to live past twenty; don't call before nine. And because you got me up this early, don't call me until noon today. 'Bye." He flipped his cell phone shut before Matt could protest and dove beneath the covers again. Just to be safe, he set it on silent.

-----

Light was up early writing his name over and over in the Death Note. For some reason, he wasn't dying. Disappointed, he closed the book as his name erased itself again and again. Ryuk must've done something to it so he couldn't kill himself after the Ryuzaki incident. It was a good trick to keep him alive, but didn't do much for his mood when he wanted nothing more than to be ten feet underground, tacked into a box and never moving again. It was depressing to not be able to die. For some reason, it only made it worse. If he'd died, it would have been an accomplishment, at least. After all, it was like he wasn't allowed to, which only made him want it more.

Mikami came up behind Light and shoved his lips messily onto his lover's. If you could call Light a lover. Light didn't really love anything, not even the fact that he was alive. He hated that. He was more of a hater than a lover. But it still made him feel a little better to have someone care about him.

He let Mikami get what he wanted. Passion fueled his anger. He leaped on Mikami, tearing his clothes, tears ruining his cold perfect face as his mouth opened wider and wider as they kissed. They never just kissed. One kiss led to another, and the next to another, and eventually a kiss left them shirtless, and after that they were slipping out of jeans and boxers, and soon that first kiss had led them all the way to orgasm. They were gasping and grabbing bare slim shoulders, grinding hips and hooking their legs together at the knees, their bodies twisted and bent into positions that felt so good it didn't matter the discomfort. Mikami was big, he was strong, he was tall and lean and bold. He was like that through every inch of his body, and there was no denying he was powerful.

Mikami ran his finger carefully along Light's cock, bit his thumb open, and sucked on a mix of blood and precum. As creepy and disgusting as this should have been, Light found the kinky face Mikami made to be a huge turn-on. Maybe Mikami knew that, maybe not, but he kept going anyway.

Mikami bit the inside of Light's thigh, who groaned and balled his fist in thick black hair. Light's stomach turned and he doubled over as Mikami bit the end of his cock. A shock spiked up his back, and his head slammed back against the mattress. His entire body tensed as Mikami pulled his whole length into his mouth, sucking on the head. He screamed raggedly, voice ripping the air. It was just too much. The warm wet lips left his cock and dragged tenderly up his chest. As the smiling lips met his, he felt a sudden jab of pain in a place he wasn't ready for. The explosion of pain and pleasure made him twitch and he arched his back up off the bed, moaning loudly into Mikami's neck.

Mikami was inside him, and Light was unprepared as ever.

Light jerked forward against Mikami's mouth again as raw, painful passion and pleasure sharply hid everything else. With a sharp yell, Light felt himself cum, orgasming into the other man, who growled roughly in response, frantically swallowing as much semen as he could. They moved together, not in love but still pretending more than ever that they were, feeling what each of them considered love at the moment. Neither of them could really love now—Light only loved Mikami when he pretended he was L, and Mikami couldn't love Light enough to make him stop thinking about Ryuzaki. They would rather be happy and deceived. They would rather steal lines from other songs to write their own, because they had nothing real to write about. Sometimes pretending was enough, and coming was always enough.

It was better to just assume they were supposed to be the way they were, and never intended to change.


End file.
